


never gonna give (Give you up)

by Sour_Wolf (TMPNMK)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (work in very sporadic progress), Aged Up, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Based on a Tumblr Post, Bathrooms, Camping, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Dog Jokes, Duck - Freeform, Everyone Is Alive, Good Peter Hale, Humor, Immaturity, Kombucha, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Peter Hale is a Little Shit, Pillow Fights, Road Trip, Sane Peter Hale, Sarcasm, Sassy Peter Hale, Sharing A Tent, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Songfic, Sort Of, Tags Contain Spoilers, Truth or Dare, WIP, bc FUCK that bitch, but a teenager, except kate argent, idek, like overage, like this is named after rickrolling, mosquitoes, not really - Freeform, peter sighs, rickrolling, sharing a space, stiles is 19, thats the level of serious-ity at play here, the author has no clue what the hell shes doing, this is a lighthearted piece, wivsp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 02:44:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21487042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TMPNMK/pseuds/Sour_Wolf
Summary: “Are we there yet?” Peter cuts a glare over to the boy beside him, sticking his tongue out in a show of maturity fitting of his alpha status. “If we were there yet, this damn jeep wouldn’t still be in motion, now would it?” The honey-eyed boy sticks his own tongue out in an equally mature and elegant display of dominance. Take that Creeper-wolf.Alternatively: 5 times Peter sighed + 1 time he-  nope, still sighing.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 7
Kudos: 169





	1. Chapter 1

“Are we there yet?” Peter cuts a glare over to the boy beside him, sticking his tongue out in a show of maturity fitting of his alpha status. “If we were there yet, this damn jeep wouldn’t still be in motion, now would it?” The honey-eyed boy sticks his own tongue out in an equally mature and elegant display of dominance. Take that Creeper-wolf. Stiles huffs out a breath, collapses back against the well-worn seat, and stares out the window in a poor attempt to mask the boredom eating away at his insides. “I wouldn’t have to ask if you’d just tell me where the heck we’re going.” He’s not being petulant. He’s  _ not _ . It’s a valid point. He has no idea where the heck they’re heading, having only been informed of this “camping trip” two days ago. 

Peter lets out a long sigh and glances over. Stiles quickly straightens his mouth from what was totally not a pout into what is most definitely a frown. Peter turns back to the road. “I told you. We’re going to a camping ground up in Oregon. I booked us a spot for a couple nights.” He shifts into a more suitable gear and speeds the jeep into a higher pace. “Here.” He takes a hand off the wheel to offer the younger boy the auxiliary cord. “Why don’t you amuse yourself by finding us a playlist.” It occurs to Peter, as the boy’s face lights up into a sort of manic glee, that he may have made a mistake in judgement. He sighs again and turns back to the road.

His regret is only solidified when not a moment later Rick Astley starts blaring through the speakers. Stiles of course, is crooning along. As he shimmies his shoulders towards Peter and appropriates the wolf’s phone as a microphone, Peter rolls his eyes fondly. Persistent bastard. 

Eventually the pair stops the car at a rest station. While Stiles empties his bladder, Peter sets about finding something halfway decent for the two of them to eat. As he prowls through the aisles he catches himself humming.  _ “Never gonna turn around and-”  _ goddamnit. Thoroughly irritated, but also somewhat fond, Peter pettily decides against putting the recess cups into his basket. Annoying little pricks don’t deserve candy. He continues perusing. Selecting crackers, some cheese, and some seltzers. Against his better judgement, the peanut butter cups make it back into his basket. Whatever. 

Stiles skips, actually skips, on up to where Peter is disdainfully sneering at the selection of beverages. “It’s a gas station, not a Whole Foods. Don’t be such a picky-wolf. Wait a sec. What’s kombucha?” Peter rolls his eyes at the critique of his dietary choices but lets that one slide. “Kombucha is a sort of fermented tea. It tastes something like if one encountered a puddle of vomit, decided against wasting it, poured vinegar on it, and chowed down. It’s revolting.” Stiles seems confused. “Fermented tea? Isn’t that kinda bougie for a gas station?” Peter sighs. He seems to be doing a lot of that recently. “We’re in Oregon now.” Stiles, of course, immediately understands and moves on to critiquing the basket. “Cheese, crackers, Reeses! You do care! La Cwaahgh, snacking chocolate, and that’s it.” Snapping his head back up to face Peter he looks up reproachingly. “If you’re going to insist on kidnapping me, the least you can do is provide decent culinary options. I’m a teenager not a recently widowed health nut.” Peter sighs (again) and hands Stiles the basket. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to make demands when you’re being kidnapped. If it really matters so much to you, you take care of the rest of the shopping. I’m going to the bathroom.” 

As he meanders away he hears a muttered “probably going to pee on some poor tree.” and rolls his eyes. Peeing on trees is a full moon thing. Silly boy.

Meanwhile Stiles has gone berserkers. By the time Peter gets back the boy has accumulated three baskets worth of items, and is currently engaged in a staring contest with a duck. The older man has no idea how the boy managed to find a duck in the five minutes he’s been gone, and frankly, he has no desire to find out.

Peter gently bumps stiles out of the way with a hip, pays for all the items, and puts the bags into the back of the jeep. After physically dragging Stiles away from the duck and back into the car, Peter starts the engine and off they go again.

When they finally arrive at the campground Peter sets up their tent while Stiles offers “helpful” feedback. “The corner’s crooked”

“You’re crooked.”

“Says the ex-serial killer. It is  _ ex _ -serial killer, right? Oh my god. Oh no. That’s why you’ve brought me out here. You’re going to murder me. You’re mad that I killed you, and everything has been a ploy to get me to trust you. You’re a patient guy. What’s three years when you get to rip out the throat of the guy who killed you with your teeth. Who’s gonna take care of my Betsy? My dad’s the sheriff, you know. He’ll be able to find me. Even if I  _ am _ at an undisclosed camping ground out of state. Oh my god. I’m at an undisc-”

“Stiles.”

“I’m too young to die. I still have plans. I still hav-”

“Stiles. Shut up, calm down, and go find some firewood. I haven’t killed anyone in at least a month, and I don’t intend to start now.” Stiles stares wide-eyed and gaping and mouths “a month” while Peter sighs yet again. Finally, Peter turns Stiles to face the road, places a twenty in his hands, and gives the boy a shove towards the nearest wood-truck. The other campers continue to eat their hot dogs, blissfully unaware.

Peter sighs, and finishes setting up the tent, unrolling the sleeping bags, and setting up a lamp for Stiles and his puny human eyes. 

As the sun lowers in the sky, a cacophony of buzzing arises from the distance. They are coming.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles, inevitably, starts twitching with boredom. “Creeper-wolf?” Peter sighed, resigning himself to his unflattering nickname. “Truth or Dare?” 

“They” were the mosquitoes. Hordes of them. Stiles ran wildly back to their camp, screeching as if the sound waves would manifest into a shield around him. He flailed wildly, scattering the firewood onto the ground outside of their tent. He promptly nosedove inside, zipping the flap tightly behind him. Strangely, the mosquitoes seemed to be ignoring Peter, and were leaving a bubble of clear air around him. The wolf appreciated the gesture, and continued puttering about the campsite.

He gathered some kindling to build a fire, and went about the task of neatly stacking the wood that Stiles had haphazardly flung about the ground in his frenzy to escape the little bloodsuckers. Peter sighed. “Are you planning on rejoining modern society anytime soon?” Stiles paused his indignant squealing to answer, “I’m not going anywhere near those nasty little fuckers. I like my life, i’d like to continue liking my life, and not die of malaria at age 19. Not all of us have wolfy disease-immunity.”

Suspicious rustling sounds came from inside the tent. Peter sighed and went in to investigate. 

In the corner of the cramped enclosure, the younger man was furiously searching amongst the bags, concentration furrowing his brow. Stiles suddenly sprung up, victorious, clutching a small jar of powder. “Mountain Ash! I can use it to make a circle around the tent to keep those little fuckers far away.” Peter sighed. “And where, pray tell, will I sleep?” Stiles floundered about for a minute before Peter provided him with an answer. “I doubt it would even work on bugs. Mosquitoes aren’t supernatural, just annoying. For you at least.” Peter smiled at Stiles, not above using his wolfy powers for bragging rights. “The mosquitoes aren’t a problem for you?” Stiles’s voice was tinged with just the slightest bit of envy. “No. They know better than to mess with an apex predator such as myself. Just stick by me for a while.”

Soon after, Peter was forced to admit to a bit of a flaw in his plan. “Can’t you just hold it? The bathrooms are so far away, and if I take even one step outside of your damn bubble of immunity, the little fuckers will drain my life force. You’d have to drag my empty, bloodless, drained husk back home to my father. It’s bad enough that you’re a murderer. Once you become  _ my _ murderer, you’ll be toast.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Nothing’s been proven. And you can just come with me. It’ll be a pack-bonding experience.” With that, Peter dragged Stiles by the wrist in the direction of the communal bathrooms, nabbing a cracker on his way out.

Due to the scourge of mosquitoes plaguing the lands, the bathroom was pleasantly empty, the common folk having opted to stay in the relative safety of their tents come nightfall. The mosquitoes buzzed about, causing Stiles to flinch closer to Peter with every swoop. 

Actually going to the bathroom was a bit of an ordeal. Thankfully Peter only had to urinate. The pair ended up using side by side urinals. Peter, literally raised by wolves, was comfortable with the proximity. Stiles, an immature teenager, was not. “Y’know, if we were in literally  _ any _ other situation, I wouldn't even be in the  _ room  _ with you while you do… this. Hell, I’d probably line the doorway with mountain ash when it was my turn.” Peter sighed and moved to go wash his hands. “WAIT! Where do you think you’re going?!” Stiles scrambled to follow, not wanting to leave the bubble of safety provided by the wolf’s aura. The pair washed their hands, Stiles flicking sudsy water at Peter in reprimand. Peter retaliated by wiping his hands dry on the back of the teen’s shirt. Stiles squawked and whacked Peter in the chest with his own wet hands, leaving a dark hand print on the wolf’s olive v-neck. Peter started speed walking back towards camp, forcing Stiles to jog behind him in order to remain mosquito free. 

Back at the camp, the two dine on a meal of gas station snacks. The tent is small and they end up lying down next to each other in order to preserve space. Stiles, inevitably, starts twitching with boredom. “Creeper-wolf?” Peter sighed, resigning himself to his unflattering nickname. “Truth or Dare?” 

“Truth”

“Do you know why the mosquitoes are so repelled by you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You only get one question. Truth or Dare?”

“I hate you. Truth.”

“Have you purposefully been acting extra childish around me, these last few days?”

“Nooo...”

“Lie.”

“Fine. Yes, it’s funny to make you irritated, you start sighing and looking like you’re about to lose it. Also, no fair using wolfy powers! Truth or Dare?”

“The name of the game is  _ Truth _ or Dare. If anything, my ‘wolfy powers’ only make the game more fair. Truth.”

“Why am I here?”

“We drove. Truth or Dare.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it, you bastard.” Stiles crosses his arms and turns to shoot Peter a glare. “I refuse to continue until you answer the question.” Peter sighs. “I’ve gotten sick of Beacon Hills. Every week it’s the same thing. New bad-guy, new idiotic plan, new fight, new week, new bad-guy, new plan.” Peter waves his hand in an all encompassing gesture. “I got sick of it. Wanted a change of scenery. I didn’t have a car, so thus, your involvement.”

At this, Stiles lets out an indignant yelp, and whacks Peter over the face with his pillow. Peter grabs onto it and yanks it towards his side of the tent, yeeting the boy towards him. Stiles lands half on-top of him and regains balance. Peter allows him to regain possession of his pillow, only to be unceremoniously whacked with it once again. This is why he can’t have nice things, he mused to himself, whacking Stiles in the face with his own pillow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea where i'm going with this. enjoy.  
i will probably bring the duck back, i just think writing about a duck would be fun. if you have any requests hmu in the comments.  
i am still implementing the nap per kudos policy, i am however making an amendment. it will now be +5mins per kudos. tbh i thought i'd only get like 3 kudos, but i'm def. not mad about exceeding that. i am tired, less tired after the nap crowdsourcing from c1, but still tired.  
idk how commas work. if i misused them; oops. oh well.

**Author's Note:**

> I will continue this, but first, a nap.  
Note: there will be minimal supernatural stuff in whatever this turns into. This is largely bc Idk how to spell the creature names and am too lazy to google em.
> 
> Leave a comment if you liked it, or don't. Whatever makes you comfy my dudes.  
I'm so tired. For every kudos I will add 10 mins to my nap.
> 
> EDIT: omfg. i forgot to link to the tumblr post.  
https://katy-l-wood.tumblr.com/post/185912685227/i-have-found-the-best-mug-ever-i-told-myself-i  
ta-da


End file.
